


I Don't Hate You

by steve_it_only_hurt_a_little_rogers



Series: The Author is Being Self indulgent and Borderline Creepy [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: F/M, I Don't Even Know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 05:10:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9306713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steve_it_only_hurt_a_little_rogers/pseuds/steve_it_only_hurt_a_little_rogers
Summary: You're Steve's love interest in the new Captain America movie. What could possibly be wrong?





	

**Author's Note:**

> The_Jack_Master left this comment and my brain just ran away with it:  
> “I enjoy your story very much, but I must say, as someone from Boston, that Chris Evans is from Sudbury, MA, which is a lot different from Boston because It's where the wealthier people live. Also if he were from Boston, unless he were from Charlestown or South Boston, the whole race thing would be so off putting..."
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm exaggerating how Chris would behave obviously and the out come just doesn't happen in real life but you know. Fiction. Plot. Fun.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hi, I'm, (Y/N)," you smiled.

Today was the day for your introduction into the Avengers side of the Marvel Cinematic Universe as an enhanced antihero on the run from your HYDRA past living with Captain America, slowly becoming his new love interest. You held your hand out and everyone shook it. All except one.

“Wait, _you're_ playing ReSpawn?" a bleached blond and clean shaven man exclaimed.

You turned your attention fully on your leading man and stared him down. He glared right back at you with hatred in his eyes. You stood on your tip toes to get into his face as much as possible. 

“Yeah, _I'm_ playing ReSpawn. You got a _problem_ with that?" you asked.

He looked you up and down, tension and hostility pouring off of him. Finally, he folded his arms, pouted, and shook his head. You backed off and returned your sights to your friendly fellow co-workers, but you could still feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head. That's how the first few weeks of filming with Chris Evans went.

He avoided you like the plague, but stared heavily when he thought you weren't looking. Every time you two had to do a scene, especially, semi-intimate ones, they were rushed and stiff because, Chris, didn't want to get too close to, let alone touch, you, and the crew was at their wits end.

Over the month, you tried talking to, Chris, but he just rolled his eyes and walked away. You tried talking to, Scarlett, his best friend in the world, but she just looked at you sadly and said that he was trying to figure something out. Sebastian looked like he wanted to spill, but, Chris, or a crew member would pull him away every time. Anthony was still trying to figure it out himself.

“I really don't know, (Y/N)," Anthony sighed, glancing over at his friend. Chris was leaning against his trailer, stealing glances at you with confusion and anger etched into his face.

“He's not racist is he?" you asked.

“He's never looked sideways at me," Anthony shrugged.

You frowned and looked over at, Chris. He became like a deer in headlights before running away.

* * *

 

“Someone not related to, Peggy, I understand. Hell, even, Bucky, I understand! The fan base's been asking for that for years!" Chris exclaimed, “But no one asked for-! She's a completely-! She's just for the movies she's not canon!"

“Sounds to me like someone's jealous," Anthony laughed, “Mad that Miss ex-HYDRA's stealing Cap's thunder?"

“No! I just don't understand why I need a love interest!"

“Chris man what is wrong with you? You didn't have a problem with Sharon! What's so wrong about, Li? There's only one thing everyone can think of..."

“What?" Chris asked, already knowing the answer.

“Man, be real with me," Anthony frowned, “Is it cause she's Black?"

“No! I-! Yes..." he admitted.

“Chris-!"

“I have nothing against Black people, you know that! I personally just don't like the whole interracial relationships thing."

“And I personally just don't like white privilege but I still gotta deal with it!"

“Mackie, come-."

Chris swallowed the rest of his sentence the moment you came through the door with the rest of the female cast. The little black dress you wore complimented your figure perfectly, showing off your beautiful curves, perfectly sized breasts, and the nicest ass he's wanted since day one. You curled your dark, shiny hair flawlessly and whatever you did with your eyes made them stand out from everyone else's.

The thing that infuriated him the most though were your god damned _lips._ They were still as still as sinfully full and red as they've been for the last two months and he _still_ wanted to know what they felt like-.

“Chris, close your mouth, man. You look like a dog in a rut."

Chris glared at his friend and the Falcon sneered at him. His ears went red.

“I'm starting to think that you're not mad because _Captain America's_ love interest is Black. _Yours_ is."

Chris almost opened his mouth when the click of heels and a slight aroma of roses came with your presence. You sat down on Chris' left and it took every fiber of his being to ignore you, lest his body betray him.

“Anthony, Chris! Long time no see!" you exclaimed.

“I know," Anthony answered, “Like a whole five hours."

“You know you missed me," you teased, “Right, Chris?"

He kept his silence no matter how awkward. He knew if he opened his mouth, he would say something stupid. Something that went against everything he was raised in. But he didn't want to scare you away though. Not when all he had to do to relive all his stress is turn his head and-.

“Chris, are you okay? You look flushed."

He looked up at you instinctively at the sound of his name. Your face was inches from his, just it has been for the last three weeks. 

_“Just kiss the girl, Evans!" the director shouted, “What's so hard? Pretend she's someone you want!"_

Your hand rested on his arm and the other on his thigh. What's he wouldn't give for you to move the one on his leg over a couple of inches...

Chris threw money for his drinks on the bar and got up to go out the door before his lower half embarrassed you both.

* * *

 

“Chris," Anthony said, “I know for a fact that she's into you."

“Well, unfortunately, for her I don't feel the same about her."

“Then why have you been sitting here for two hours glaring at her and Hiddleston?" Mackie asked, “Is it the interracial thing again or are you against anyone that's not _you_ getting too comfortable with her?"

Chris opened his mouth, closed it, and looked over at you laughing hard at something, Tom, said. Chris felt his temper flare because _he_ wanted to make you like that! Put his arm around you, show you off, and never let go! He cursed himself. He didn't know what was going on with him.

His head kept telling him he was being stupid. That he just had some weird misplaced lust floating around in his brain. His heart, though, wanted him to know just how far a relationship with you could go...but he couldn't.

He'd be shunned back home! A disgrace! His family might eventually get over it for his sake, but he couldn't put a target like that on them! He couldn't put _you_ under that amount of stress...

“Earth to Captain Little Ass come in over."

Chris blinked and came back to his current surroundings. You were smiling nervously at him and, Chris, returned it with a dopey grin of his own. Mackie started laughing at him. Chris blushed and started walking away.

“You can't walk away forever!" Anthony shouted.

Chris walked backwards to flip his friend off, sending the Falcon into hysterics. Chris turned back around just in time to bump into you. And the large cup of coffee you held.

Your face held shock and pain as the steaming hot liquid dripped off of you both. Now, Chris, knew he could've calmly and politely apologized for walking into you and offered to help clean up. But since he hates himself more than anything and lives to make himself miserable, what did he do?

“Damn it, (Y/N)! My mom gave me this shirt! It's my favorite shirt!"

“I-I'm sorry, Chris, my mom called me and-."

“That's right blame mommy for everything! Can't you take some responsibility for yourself? Just how old are you?!"

Your face darkened in irritation and gripped the coffee cup scarily tight as you spoke through clenched teeth.

“She called me to wish me a happy thirty-sixth birthday. The only one that I got all day-the only one I ever get because everyone else still hates me for wasting my brain pursuing an acting career instead of a medical degree fifteen years ago!"

Chris internally facepalmed and kicked himself over and over again, but externally however...

“I'm sorry to hear about your petty personal problems, but that doesn't solve the one of mine that's covered in coffee stains!"

“Well then, why don't go buy some _TIDE,_ JACKASS?!" you shouted.

You threw the rest of the cup and the smaller one probably meant for you at him. He dodged them both and you huffed, stomping away. At least you would've if you hadn't started to slip. Chris' reaction was split second and you fell into his arms. He looked at you in concern for a moment before he caught himself, pushed you upright, and put as much distance between you and him as possible.

“You're so clumsy!" he snapped, “Does baby need an escort to the hotel?"

Everyone was staring at you two, causing tears of anger and embarrassment to well up in your eyes and, Chris, finally calmed down and looked at you. _Really_ looked at you. The coffee got mostly on you and the pretty formerly white dress you wore. Your right hand and forearm were red, inflamed, and in some places blistering from where the drink made a direct hit. Chris paled, finally realizing what a dick he was being and began walking towards you, ready to take you to the hospital if you wanted.

“(Y/N), (Y/N) I'm-."

“Go to hell, Evans."

Chris felt like he got punched in gut as you quickly walked out of the studio with a cut off sob. Tom followed you but not before turning to glare at, Chris, with disapproving frown.

“That coffee was for you, mate," Hiddleston said, “She was worried about how tired you looked."

* * *

 

“What is your problem, Evans?!" you hissed as to not cause a scene, “Why do hate me?"

Chris started walking away from you, not making any eye contact. You huffed and followed after him up to his room.

After, Tom, ever the sweetheart, drove you to the emergency room and stayed while you got your scald burns treated, you hunted down the source of your headaches. You found him in the hotel bar on shot number who knows what. You sat yourself down next to him. When you asked your question, Chris, looked at you with what could only be described as longing in his guarded blue eyes before stand up, and leaving.

“Stop following me, (Y/N)!" he shouted, but you held firm.

“NO! Not until you talk to me!"

He turned his back and continued to his room. You growled loudly in irritation.

“I've done nothing wrong to you! I barely know you! So what's-oh I know what it is!"

You stopped walking and clenched your fists.

“It's 'cause I'm Black isn't it?! What? Is the uppity white boy from Bougie, Massachusetts mad that a plain, simple Black girl from Hicksville, Nowhere is Captain America's equal? Grow the fuck up!" you spat.

Chris stopped walking and you kept going.

“It's the twenty-first century buddy and it's about time that realize my folks are just as good as yours, we just happen to have darker skin!"

You finished talking, but he didn't turn around. You threw your hands in the air. Your last scene was being filmed in the morning, you didn't have time for his childish behavior.

“Forget it, I don't even know why I'm trying. I'll see you tomorrow, Chris."

You turned on your heel and started walking away when your arm was grabbed and your chin was turned around for a soft pair of lips to meet yours. After a few seconds, Chris, pulled away with a small, contented grunt and fully dilated eyes.

“I _don't_ hate you, (Y/N)," he whispered, “ _That's_ my problem."

He let go of your face, turned, and walked away. It took you a minute to recover from the shock, but then you went after him.

“Wait, Chris!"

He slammed his door shut.

* * *

 

“Alright, let's try this again! Action!"

You looked fondly at, Chris, on his hospital bed, pretending to be hurt. 

“You're an idiot," you laughed, “You could've just _told_ me how you feel."

“What's to tell? _I_ don't even know how I feel," Chris said.

He opened his eyes, a million and one real emotions in them. You raised an eyebrow, but kept going.

“Even so you can't hold all that in forever, Steve. It creates this whole big mess that I now have to deal with and-!"

“l'm sorry okay! I wanted to tell you, but I just didn't know how! I've never been in this situation before!"

You sat down on the bed and, Chris, sat up, completely focused on you. Out the corner of your eye, you saw someone about to yell cut because that wasn't in the script, but the director shut them up. 

“I've never...not with someone like you," Chris confessed, “Back where I'm from...it just doesn't work out."

“Well, you're not there anymore," you said, continuing off Chris' improvisation, “You're here with me and you have to make a choice now because I have to leave before they find me."

Chris put his hands on yours and held them tight, a little too tight, with a sad look on his face that looked a little too genuine.

“You don't have to go," he begged, “Stay here with me...I can protect you."

“I wish I could, Captain, but I can't ask you to deal with that. You have friends, a family," you reminded him, “If they find out about me, you might get caught in the crossfire. I can't lose you like that."

You bowed your head and wiped off a te-when did you start crying? Why are you? Your character is strong and composed at all times, just like-. 

“But I can't lose you."

Your head shot up to meet your co-star's misting over blue eyes. The sincerity in them and in his voice shook you. He wasn't talking about your character. He meant _you._

“If you leave," he continued, “I'll never see you again."

“Oh, don't say that," you smiled, “Fate works in mysterious ways and all that, shit."

“Language," Chris laughed weakly.

You scoffed and shook your head. Chris had tears of mostly guilt in his eyes and moved closer to you.

“Please stay?"

“Gimme one good reason," you whispered.

He kissed you, slow and sweet and you closed your eyes and kissed him back. In the background, you heard cheers erupt and the director yell cut, but all that didn't matter. Chris Evans was kissing you. Chris was actually legitimately-

“Are you drunk?" you asked when he pulled away.

“I drank the entire pot of coffee you left at my door this morning so I hope not," he smiled, cupping your cheek.

You laughed and threw your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. Chris picked you and sat you in his lap. After a couple, minutes you let up, but he kept his forehead on yours, stealing pecks every now and then.

“So you're not racist, just an idiot," you teased, “Good to know."

“I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I _am_ an idiot," he apologized, “I-there's really no excuse for it is there?"

“Not one."

He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. You smiled and cocked your head waiting for him to say something else.

“So what now?" he asked.

“How about dinner? Get to know each other under more pleasant circumstances?"

“I'd like that."

“I like it too."

You sighed and snuggled into him. Chris hugged you close, planting a kiss on the top of your head. Then he grabbed your injured hand and kissed every inch of it apologizing with each peck. 

“I'd like to shoot the next scene," Anthony said.

**Author's Note:**

> Life doesn't get any weirder or sadder than this. Wasting time by analyzing a real life person's characteristics that may or may not exist
> 
> Find me at: steve-it-hurt-a-little-rogers.tumblr.com


End file.
